Clark's eyes are so beautiful. What else is he supposed to look at, the view outside?

Bruce shifts into the hand on his thigh. Pivoting into the pressure of that thumb, deepening a bruise. It's pain but like a deep-tissue massage, good. Something to break up the constant not-quite-enough that Clark is threading through him, and wrapping him up in. Presumably his cheating will not be tolerated for very long, though.

"The problem," oh wow he sounds more out of breath than he had thought he would, dangit, "is that I so fucking love what you're doing."

If Clark wants Bruce to come before he means to, circling back to their surprisingly sweet adventure with the red light, it will be hampered by how much Bruce does in fact like being strung out this way.

"I wish I could see inside to the way your heart beats. Do the same thing to you. Find everything just... ah."

Just perfect, just like that.